


City Of Black & White

by itainthardtryin



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-20 11:05:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3647973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itainthardtryin/pseuds/itainthardtryin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompted on Tumblr: The alliance is falling apart, Lexa is attacked/poisoned by the Ice Queen. Clarke must save her and they have to defeat the Ice Nation.</p><p>Alternatively, Clarke leaves Camp Jaha after they defeat the Mountain Men and ends up in Polis, where she finds that the Ice Queen has started a rebellion against the other clans and the alliance is completely broken.  But more importantly, The Ice Queen has also captured Lexa, and it's down to Clarke to save her. </p><p>[Fic will be in two parts.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Clarke walks out of Camp Jaha and doesn’t look back.

She walks for hours, her eyes forward, only looking down to find her path.. She walks, and walks, and walks. The sun gives in before she does, and it’s only when she’s walking in complete darkness that she convinces herself to stop.

She finds a cave, tries to make herself comfortable.

Images of Mount Weather play over and over in her mind. Of bodies covered red raw. Death caused by her hand.

_And Bellamy’s_ , a small part of her tries to argue. It doesn’t win.

She sleeps only because her body is exhausted, and wakes up forty-five minutes later when the sun rises in the east. It doesn’t feel like she’s even rested at all.

\--

She continues through the woods with apathy. Before they took down the Mountain, Clarke would take every step with caution. Her eyes would be on high alert for bodies in the trees. Now, Clarke couldn’t care less about any threat the forest holds. She deserves to be punished for what she’s done. An arrow to the chest would be justified right now.

But one doesn’t come.

The woods are unusually quiet. The only sounds are the rustle of the leaves in the wind and Clarke’s feet breaking twigs as she walks.

She walks, and walks, and walks.

Until she sees it in the distance.

She didn’t even realise that this is where she was going. Subconsciously, she’s always known this is where she’d end up.

Her heart is broken for so many people right now. So she may try to start to heal it as best she can. The dead are gone. But she can mend her relationships with the living.

Lexa is within the walls ahead of her. Dull anger resides in her stomach but she wills it away. The alliance is important for the greater good. Without the alliance, they’re at war with each other. Clarke needs to ensure that the alliance holds fast.

Without it, she could die by Lexa’s hand.

Or Lexa by hers.

After Finn, neither is an option. Clarke takes a breath to steady herself, and continues on to Polis.

\---

Clarke instantly knows something is wrong.

The men standing at the gates are not in the darkened cloth of the Grounders. Instead, their robes are silver and white.

Clarke approaches them with caution. As soon as they hear her come nearer they raise their spears in the air, ready to throw.

Clarke walks out of the trees, hands raised in the air indicating that she means no harm. “I’m unarmed. And alone,” she shouts when she’s close enough. The guards don’t put their spears down, but they don’t throw them either. Clarke advances slowly. “I wish to speak with your Commander. You can tell her that Clarke of the Sky People wants to discuss the alliance.”

The guards lower their spears and, if Clarke didn’t think she could be imagining things through her lack of food and water, she would swear that they both laughed.

“Our Commander has been looking forward to meeting you.”

The words make Clarke feel ill.

Something is wrong.

\---

The guards lead her through the city, passing the embers of an old fire on the way. The smoke has a certain smell and Clarke has experienced the scent before - in Tondc when they said goodbye to Finn.

It’s flesh.

Grounders have died here in recent days.

The war isn’t over.

\---

They finally arrive at what Clarke assumes is their palace. Much more time and care has been taken on this building than the huts and tents that Clarke is used to. The walls are brick and mortar. The outside is painted. The guard opens the door for Clarke to enter. “The Commander is waiting.”

Clarke steps cautiously through the threshold into a large, almost completely vacant, room. At the far end is Lexa’s throne. But she is not the one sitting on it.

“I have heard much about you, Clarke of the Sky People,” the woman says.

“Unfortunately I cannot return the sentiment,” Clarke fires back. “Where’s Lexa? Who are you?”

The woman rises from her - no, Lexa’s - throne, and Clarke freezes on the spot.

“You will have heard of me, Clarke. For my people are infamous in these parts.”

Clarke furrows her brow. “Your people? You aren’t part of the twelve clans?”

The woman laughs mirthlessly. “We were. But not by choice.” Realisation dawns on Clarke and she suddenly feels more alert that she has in days. This is the Ice Queen. Who beheaded Costia.

“Where’s Lexa?” Clarke asks again, willing the fear to stay out of her voice.

“So the rumors are true,” the Queen says. “You reciprocate her feelings.”

“Please,” Clarke begs. She doesn’t know what else to do.

“Let me inform you of some changes that have been made in Polis in recent days,” the Queen begins, slowly making her way towards Clarke. “When the Commander released her people from the Mountain and brought them back here, she was concerned about the alliance. I had a private meeting with the Commander and informed her that the Ice Nation had not agreed to this alliance. And that we were not going to let it stand.”

The Queen is only feet from Clarke now. Clarke’s breathing is becoming shallower, and she’s trying her best not to shake. She needs to know if Lexa is alive.

“Walk with me, Clarke,” the Queen says, leading her to a door that Clarke hadn’t noticed on the side wall. “I have something to show you.”

The Ice Queen opens the door, but Clarke stands her ground. “Visitors first.” Despite her better judgement, Clarke enters.

Lexa is standing up, chained to the wall on the opposite side of the small room, bruised, beaten, and bleeding. She has been stripped of her armor, and looks so young in her civilian clothing. Her eyes are closed, and the only way Clarke can tell that she’s still alive is by the subtle rise and fall of her chest. “Lexa,” she breathes out, taking a step forward to reach her. The Queen stops her in her tracks and shuts the door, locking the three of them in the room.

“The Commander has had some issues in her leadership recently, so I have taken control of Polis so we can be sure that our legacy will not be poisoned.”

“Poisoned?”

“The Commander will feel just how painful poison can be,” she tells Clarke. Clarke understands instantly. She thinks back to Jasper, and how he almost died without an antidote. She doesn’t know how long Lexa has been chained in here, but she knows she doesn’t have much time. “Our people have very sacred traditions. Blood will have blood. Yet, since the People of the Sky became people of the ground, our traditions seem to have been forgotten.”

“I don’t understand,” Clarke says, but it sounds like a plea.

“One of your people, killed eighteen from the ground. And only he died in return.

“And I was the one who killed him,” Clarke admits.

“So I believe.” The Ice Queen’s presence is terrifying. She thought Lexa was intimidating, but Clarke can tell just by looking at this woman that there is no limit to what she is capable of. “And you also took the lives of three hundred others. By fire.”

Clarke’s heart starts beating faster. “So kill me instead,” she offers. “Kill _me_. Without me, there’ll be no alliance. No more of your people will die because of me.” Clarke is crying now. The weight of everything she’s done is resting heavy on her shoulders. “Kill me instead, and let Lexa live.”

The Queen considers her for a moment. “An interesting offer. But not one I wish to accept.” Her eyes become wicked. “I will not kill you, Clarke. But you are still going to die,” she informs her, turning away and making a swift exit from the room, locking the door behind her. There is only a small slit in the wall letting light into the room. Other than that, there’s nothing.

Clarke wastes no time in directing her attention to Lexa. “Lexa. Lexa! Can you hear me?” she says, her voice raised. Lexa’s shackles are tight, and impossible to get off without a sword or knife. Clarke cannot cut her down, but she can carry her weight. She wraps an arm around Lexa’s waist, holding her up and taking the strain. “Lexa, please say something,” Clarke begs.

Lexa struggles to form words, her mouth dry. She stutters and, even in her weakest moments, Clarke has never seen Lexa look as small and vulnerable as this. “Clarke,” Lexa chokes out. “You need to find a way out.”

Clarke is so thankful to hear her voice that she cries even harder. “No, I need to make sure you stay alive,” Clarke tells her.

Lexa shakes her head. “It is pointless.”

Anger rages within Clarke’s chest. “No, it isn’t. We have not come this far to give up!”

“It is not giving up,” Lexa explains, her voice still weak. “It is accepting our fate.”

“You are getting out of here. Alive. Whether you like it or not.”

The faint signs of a smile appear on Lexa’s lips. “That’s my Clarke.”

Clarke forgets where they are for a second. Forgets how tragic their story is. For one brief moment in time, they’re just two teenagers who love each other. For one brief moment in time, Clarke is Lexa’s and that’s all that matters.

But when the moment passes, Clarke is reminded of their situation by a scream from outside the walls.

She doesn’t know who it belongs to, but she would bet her life that she knows who caused it.

Clarke takes another look at Lexa, notes that her face is growing paler. Clarke is determined to get her out of here alive. But she also knows she _has_ to get out of here. There’s nothing Clarke can do within these four walls that will save Lexa’s life. Everything she needs is beyond the door.

She silently curses Bellamy for not following her. For letting her wander alone into the unknown. Every time a plan has gone awry in the past, someone has jumped in and saved her. But she has no allies here.

She is alone.

\---

Lexa’s health deteriorates rapidly. She shakes uncontrollably, coughs up blood, sweats too much. Even someone who knew nothing about medicine would know that their time is running out. Clarke knows now that she needs to focus on finding a way out.

Every stone in the wall is fixed solidly to the rest, with none shifting even a millimeter when Clarke tries to pull it apart. She has nothing to blast the door open. No weapons to help her break it with force.

Maybe she doesn’t need to use force.

She frantically thinks about what she has on her person. Nothing apart from her clothes. Suddenly, the idea hits her and she can’t believe she didn’t think of it sooner.

She reaches under her shirt, and unhooks her bra, taking it off without removing any other clothing. As soon as she can, she rips it apart, freeing the underwire from the cloth. She quickly bends it into a straight line, and starts to pick the lock.

She doesn’t have much experience - only ever picking a lock once back on the Ark with Wells when they were younger, trying to break into a restricted area to find out more information about the oxygen supply. Clarke wiggles the metal in the lock, and after a few minutes, there’s a ‘click’.

She did it.

Clarke stands up, half laughing, half crying, “Lexa,” she whispers. “Lexa, we did it.”

Lexa doesn’t respond. The silence fills Clarke with dread. She rushes over to her, where she’s stopped breathing. “No, no, no,” she mutters to herself under her breath. She can’t perform CPR unless Lexa is lying down. Clarke doesn’t have time to pick the lock on Lexa’s shackles too, but she also knows she has no option.

Her hands are shaky, panic setting in. Everything is far too quiet. Lexa’s chest is far too still. After what seems like an eternity, the shackles break free and Lexa’s limp body falls to the floor. Clarke wastes no time in kneeling down beside her, pumping Lexa’s chest rhythmically. “Come on,” she says, leaning down to breathe air back into Lexa’s lungs.

Nothing.

“Lexa, please,” Clarke cries, desperately pressing down on Lexa’s chest for a second time. “I need you. You can’t die too.”

Clarke attaches their mouths again, willing Lexa to breathe.

She doesn’t.

Clarke can barely see what she’s doing through her tears, but she knows where to place her hands to keep trying to restart Lexa’s heart. “I love you,” Clarke admits, praying with everything that she has that she can breathe life back into Lexa’s body. She touches their lips together, and breathes more air into Lexa’s lungs. Clarke’s hope is fading when Lexa coughs weakly, followed by a deep breath, taking new air into her body.

Clarke sobs in relief, every muscle she has relaxing as she sees Lexa’s eyes open again. She softly pushes the hair out of Lexa’s face, stroking her forehead as she does. “I thought I’d lost you. I thought-” Clarke can’t finish the sentence, the weight of it too heavy. “We need to get out of here,” she tells Lexa, pulling herself together. She needs to be strong now.

Lexa nods weakly.

“I’m going to kill the Queen,” Clarke tells her, determined. “I don’t know how, but I’ll do it. I promise.” Lexa’s eyes are heavy, her breathing slow. “I’ll come back for you, Lexa. You’re gonna be okay.”

Clarke stands up, trying to focus herself on what she’s going to do to overpower the Ice Queen, at the same time as trying to distract herself from how Lexa’s life is hanging in the balance. She starts to make her way to the door when she hears Lexa’s voice from behind her. She turns around.

“If I had chosen with my heart, I would have stayed by your side,” Lexa says in the most broken tone Clarke has ever heard. It sounds a lot like last words, the intensity of Lexa’s stare seeming very final. Clarke will not let this be their goodbye.

“I know.” Lexa nods in recognition. “Just stay alive. For me.” Another nod.

Clarke cannot bring herself to leave this room without experiencing Lexa’s kiss one last time. She doesn’t know that she’ll ever see Lexa again. Clarke’s survived this long, but one day her luck is sure to run out, and when it does; well, that doesn’t bear thinking about. She kneels beside Lexa and presses their lips together.

Lexa barely has the strength to return the kiss, and Clarke doesn’t push. She’s content enough to just feel Lexa’s lips on her own - for one last time, she thinks, but gets rid of the thought away as quickly as it appears.

“May we meet again,” Clarke says, standing up and turning her back on Lexa for a second time. This time she has the courage to fight.

With Lexa’s kiss still tingling on her lips, Clarke opes the door quietly, and slips out of the room with only two things on her mind:

Lexa is not going to die.

The Ice Queen is.


	2. Chapter 2

Clarke tip-toes out of the stone room, making sure to close the door carefully behind her. She’s not going to be able to protect Lexa while she’s gone, but if she makes it look like the door hasn’t opened, then she’ll have no need to.

The only issue now is that she’s working on borrowed time. Lexa isn’t going to hold on much longer without actual medical attention. Clarke tries not to think about it.

She moves in shadows, stays close to the walls to guide her. There is dead silence in the main room of the building, and she can’t see anyone sitting on the throne or in the area. Still, she’s not stupid enough to put herself out in the open. She stays where she’s hidden and moves towards the front door.

She pauses for a second, considering what could happen if she opens the door to leave.

Someone is bound to see her. There’s no way she can sneak out into the main square of Polis undetected. Arrows and spears will be thrown her way. She’ll be pinned to the door like a decoration for the Ice Nation to keep.

If she does manage to get through the door and remain under the radar, she still doesn’t have a plan.

And more importantly, she doesn’t have a weapon either.

Clarke scours the room for something - anything - she can use for defence. The walls are intricately decorated for Grounders. Murals and carvings in stone that Clarke is sure have deeper meanings. She makes a note to ask Lexa about them when this is over. But in the whole room - other than tearing the throne apart - there’s nothing to use as a weapon. And Clarke isn’t going to risk going where she can be seen.

Instead, she decides to take an even bigger risk.

And she opens the front door of the room, and walks out into the main square of Polis.

 

\---

 

Clarke only breathes again when she can see that someone in the distance is facing a far worse fate than she has. She can now see the source of the screaming she heard earlier.

A female grounder, no older than Clarke herself, tied up, bleeding from almost every part of her body. The Ice Queen is there, back towards Clarke, watching the life drain from the girl. Clarke wonders what she’s done to deserve this, or if she even did anything at all. She thinks the latter is more likely. The girl is probably just a plaything for the Queen. Something to keep her occupied.

As much as Clarke wishes she could save everyone, she’s almost glad that there’s a distraction. She’s glad the Queen isn’t looking her way, that instead she’s getting some sick and twisted pleasure from watching this girl’s clothes turn red and face turn white.

Clarke doesn’t hang around to watch, she’s sure she’ll hear what’s happening and that’s bad enough. She sneaks around the corner of the building, staying against the wall. Her heart is racing, eyes on high alert for any sign of movement. She runs in the opposite direction from the square, still with no plan or direction.

She spots an open door into a hut and chances her luck. Clarke breathes a sigh of relief when she finds it deserted. She quickly tears the place apart, trying to find anything to defend herself with. She almost laughs when she finds not only a spear, but also a knife. She lifts both, and is about to leave the hut again when she hears footsteps outside.

Clarke holds her breath, and crouches behind a table. Her body is hidden from view by a blanket draped off of it. She wills her body not to move or make noise as the footsteps make their way into the hut.

She chances a glance around the side of the blanket and she sees a Grounder. She knows immediately that they are not part of the Ice Nation. They are bleeding and worn down, and wearing clothes that have been torn in every direction.

The Grounder takes careful steps backwards, never taking their eyes off the doorway. When they’re sure no-one is following them, they turn around. Clarke gasps, and immediately covers her mouth when she does. It’s Indra.

“Show yourself!” she whispers. “Who is there?” She holds her sword high, ready to attack.

Clarke carefully makes her way out from where she is hiding, hands in the air in surrender. She leaves her spear on the ground, but the knife is tucked in the waistband of her trousers just in case.

“You,” Indra spits. “You will pay the price for this!”

“No, no, no,” Clarke begs. “You have it wrong. I’m here to help.”

“The Commander is dead. Our people are being slaughtered.”

Clarke smiles. “The Commander is alive.” Indra lowers her sword slightly, but still keeps it high enough to threaten Clarke. “I’ve seen her. She doesn’t have much time. She’s been poisoned. Her heart stopped. I started it again.”

“You expect me to be grateful? If your people hadn’t fallen from the sky, the Commander would have no need to fight for her life.” Her tone is malicious and Clarke briefly wonders if she’s going to make it out of this room alive.

“We didn’t know you were here. We’ve tried to help your people. The Commander left my people to die at Mount Weather.”

“A wise decision,” Indra snarls.

“Maybe. Your Commander is ruthless. She’s strong. But right now, she needs our help or her spirit is going to leave her behind.”

Indra considers this for a moment. “How do you plan to help her?”

“I don’t know,” Clarke admits. “But we need to come up with something, fast.”

 

\---

 

The screams from the square quieten and Clarke knows that’s bad news for everyone. It means the Grounder is dead. It means the Queen is no longer distracted. It means that Lexa’s time just got shortened again.

“We need to keep the Queen away from the main building,” Clarke explains. “The Commander is locked in there. If the Queen gets back inside and realises I’m gone?” Clarke doesn’t even say it out loud. Indra understands and nods.

“We burn them,” Indra says, fire already present in her eyes. “We set the place alight. Everywhere.”

“Polis is your city,” Clarke reminds her. “Where would your people live?”

“At this rate there will be none of us left for that to be of concern, Clarke.”

Clarke briefly imagines a world where the only people left are the Sky People and the Ice Nation. She knows they need to end this now, before the bloodshed goes any farther.

“Okay. Do you have anything to start the fire?”

“I have forty years experience of living in an unforgiving world. Starting a fire is not the problem. Controlling it is.”

“We won’t be able to,” Clarke tells her. “The whole place will go up in flames.”

“Then we have to ensure we don’t burn along with it,” Indra states. Clarke has never had time to admire Indra before. But this woman standing in front of her is strong. In more ways than Clarke can even dare to imagine. She’s sure Indra has suffered more loss in her life than Clarke can imagine, too. And yet, she is still standing, still fighting. Still hopeful. “I’ll fight off the guards. You take the Queen.”

Clarke doesn’t hesitate in agreeing. Of all the blood she has had on her hands - metaphorically or otherwise - Clarke has never looked forward to a kill before. It doesn’t scare her in the way it should. She feels justified.

“Stay here. If there is no sign of fire within five minutes, the plan has failed.” Indra is about to walk out the door when Clarke grabs her arm.

“May we meet again,” she whispers. Indra understands the importance.

“May we meet again,” she echoes.

 

\---

 

The few minutes after Indra leaves are the longest of Clarke’s life. She has nothing to do but wait, and no-one to distract her from the situation. All she can think about is Lexa. She wonders if she’s stable. She can’t help but imagine Lexa’s weak body seizing, her heart struggling to continue pumping the blood through her veins. Lexa can’t die. She can’t. Clarke thinks that if she did, it would be the one thing that would push her over the edge.

She’s lost her best friend. She’s lost the boy who loved her. She’s lost her father. She’s turned her back on her mother. She’s turned her back on everyone.

She took Jasper’s love away from him.

She would deserve this, she thinks.

But Lexa doesn’t deserve to die. Clarke doesn’t agree with all of Lexa’s decisions, but she knows her heart is pure. It’s her head that leads her in dark times.

Just as the weight of everything is becoming heavier than Clarke can bear, she hears the crackling of fire. She peeks her head out the doorway and sees smoke a few huts down. She hears screaming.

It’s enough to allow her to make her exit and run towards the square undetected.

 

\---

 

When Clarke sees the scene in front of her she understands why Lexa felt so excited about war.

Grounders have appeared in their dozens and are fighting the Ice Nation guards. She has no idea where they came from - they could have been in hiding like Indra, they could have been held captive like Lexa. All she knows is that they’re here, they’re fighting, and it looks like they’re winning.

Guards are falling one by one, their bodies on the floor far outnumbering Grounder casualties. Clarke can see the determination in the faces of the Grounders, of reclaiming their land, the pure anger and need for revenge seeping out of every pore in their body.

Clarke stays hidden in a corner and scans the battlefield for any sign of the Queen. She spots her in the distance, face full of terror, clearly caught unaware. She’s trying to sneak away, but Clarke’s eyes are locked on her.

 

\---

 

Clarke sees Indra kill two men with one swoop of her sword, blood splattering everywhere coating the ground in red. Indra doesn’t even pause to catch a breath, just swings round to drive her sword into the stomach of a third guard who had been coming at her from behind, before pulling it out and watching him fall to the ground.

Knowing they’re winning the fight spurs her on. She needs to keep moving, the fire burning hotter and higher with every minute. She makes her way past the front door of the building holding Lexa. Her heart wills her to go inside, to check to see that Lexa is still breathing, but she knows she needs to focus. The flames won’t reach Lexa. But Clarke can reach the Queen.

 

\---

 

Clarke keeps her distance, follows the Queen away from the crowds. The shouting dies down as she makes her way deeper into the side streets of Polis, eyes never leaving her target. As soon as they’re far away enough from other people, Clarke makes her presence known.

“You can’t run forever,” she shouts, and the Queen spins around on the spot.

“Are you going to be the one who stops me?” she replies.

“I’m going to be the one to kill you,” Clarke says, looking her straight in the eye. The Ice Queen laughs.

“What makes you think you could kill me?”

Clarke’s eyes fill with hot, angry tears. “I drove a blade into the stomach of a boy who loved me and held him as the life bled out of him. Don’t underestimate what I’m capable of.”

“I don’t doubt it. But I’m sure you’ve heard what I’m capable of, too. You aren’t the hero of the story, Clarke. You’re the victim of a tragedy.” That pushes her over the edge, and without hesitation, Clarke throws the knife with expert precision. It pierces the Queen’s leg, sinking deep into her skin. She yells out in pain, knees buckling underneath her, dropping to the ground.

“You’re the only victim here,” Clarke says confidently, making her way closer to the Queen. She tries to scurry away, to distance herself from Clarke, but the pain in her leg makes it impossible for her to move quick enough.

Clarke hurries forward, and places her foot heavily on the Queen’s leg, almost snapping it in two. She reaches down and pulls the knife out of her flesh, taking no care at all to save her from pain. The Queen lets out a scream as Clarke makes the wound even larger. “Killing me will not end this war, Clarke,” she says through gritted teeth. “There are others waiting to rebel. The Sky People are a threat to our existence. An alliance would destroy us.”

“You brought this on yourself,” Clarke explains. “All I’m trying to do is live my life.”

“So far, so good,” The Queen says sarcastically. “Too bad this is where it ends.” Clarke is blindsided as the Queen punches her in the throat. She can’t breathe, she coughs and chokes, weakens her grip on the knife. Without hesitation, the Queen snatches it from her, pulls Clarke down with her and holds the knife to her throat, arms restrained behind her back.

Clarke panics. She’s dodged death so many times in the past, and she wonders if this is the one time her luck is going to run out.

She doesn’t scream when the Queen pushes the blade into her skin, just clenches her jaw and lets tears fall from her eyes. Clarke can feel blood beginning to trickle down her neck and she knows she needs to act fast.

She throws her head back, making contact with the Queen’s nose with a loud crack. Clarke knows she must have hit it hard enough to break it. The Queen releases her grip and Clarke quickly regains control of the situation.

“Your fight is over,” she says with venom, before grabbing the knife from her and slitting her throat. The Queen chokes, gasping for breath, and Clarke never breaks eye contact, wanting to watch the life drain from her.

It takes longer than Clarke thought, and she gets a sick satisfaction from it, knowing that her suffering wasn’t over in a second. Eventually, the Queen’s body goes limp and Clarke climbs off her. She tears off a part of the Queen’s cloak and ties it around her own neck, using it as a makeshift bandage for her wound. It’s not deep enough to cause damage, but if it doesn’t stop bleeding, Clarke will be in trouble.

She turns on her heels and walks slowly back towards the centre of Polis. In the heat of the moment, it had slipped her mind that Indra had set the place alight, so when she catches sight of the billowing smoke in the air, it throws her off for a second. She remembers Lexa and quickens her pace.

When she arrives back in the main square, most of the Ice Nation are dead. There are a few on their knees pleading for mercy, and for the first time in her life, Clarke witnesses Indra give them it. There are at least two hundred Grounders, all wounded and weary, thankful the battle has ceased.

“Indra!” Clarke shouts when she’s close enough. “The Commander!” Indra joins her and they run into the building, and push the door open into the room where Clarke left Lexa.

“Oh my God,” Clarke says under her breath when she sees the sight in front of her. Lexa is pale and there is blood trickling down her chin and on the floor, and Clarke knows that means that blood has made it’s way into Lexa’s lungs.

None of this is what Clarke expected.

She genuinely believed she would be able to save Lexa.

“Lexa, Lexa!” she says, gently patting her cheek trying to get her to come round. No response. “Indra help me move her,” Clarke asks, but Indra is stuck to the spot at the sight of her Commander looking lifeless. “Now, Indra! We don’t have time!”

She snaps out of it and kneels down beside them, helping Clarke to put Lexa on her side. “Please, please, please,” Clarke mutters quietly, praying that Lexa will respond.

After long seconds, Lexa chokes and coughs and throws up more blood. Clarke almost cries in relief, and Indra lets out a breath she’d been holding.

“Lexa, you’re going to be okay,” Clarke reassures her. “It’s over. She’s dead.” Lexa is too weak to talk back, but Clarke is sure she can hear her and understand everything she’s saying. “I slit her throat. For Costia.” Clarke can’t help it when she starts to cry. “For you.”

The silence from Lexa makes Clarke’s chest ache, but as long as Lexa is breathing and alive, it’s more than Clarke can ask for.

“Do you have an antidote?” she asks Indra.

“I can make one,” she tells Clarke. “But it will take time.”

“Do it. As fast as you can.”

“Keep her alive until I return,” Indra says before getting up and leaving the room, making her way to the woods to find herbs for the antidote.

“Lexa, we did it,” Clarke whispers. “The Mountain Men are gone. The Ice Nation defeated,” she says, stroking Lexa’s brow. “Everything is going to be okay.”

Lexa stirs, her mouth struggling to form words. “You,” she says barely loud enough for Clarke to hear. Her voice is broken and rough, but it’s the most beautiful thing Clarke has ever heard. “You did it,” Lexa says. “I did nothing.” The words are not self pity, but rather praise for Clarke.

“You were my reason,” Clarke admits. “Without you, I wouldn’t have survived.” Clarke knows it’s true, especially with the Ice Queen. She knows if she hadn’t had the anger and the need for vengeance within her she would never have had the courage to kill her. But Lexa fueled her fire, gave her reason to take her down. Gave her the strength she needed.

“I could say the same.” Lexa’s voice is weak but the meaning of her words are strong. Lexa fought to stay alive for her. Without her, she would have given up.

“Keep fighting,” Clarke tells her. “Your battle isn’t won yet.” She doesn’t want to sugarcoat the situation. She knows it’s touch-and-go until Indra returns.

“As long as you stay by my side.”

“I won’t leave you.”

“Then neither will I.”


End file.
